


No Beginnings, No End, Just Circles

by EirinnGoBragh12



Series: Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens [2]
Category: Backstrom (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-19 20:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinnGoBragh12/pseuds/EirinnGoBragh12
Summary: Picks up sometime after Beginnings, Endings, Inbetweens, references made to this work.Peter and Valentine spend more time together, enjoying the relaxed nature of their dynamic. But an interloper, and life moving forward threatens the casual nature of their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

Peter stroked Val’s hair, and made light kisses on his face. “What about when you reported it, didn’t they catch any of them?’

Valentine laughed, “even when they did, they let them go again. Cops and hustlers don’t work well together.”

“But if you reported it,” Peter trailed off.

Val laughed, “what you think they stroked my hair, and went and arrested the guy?” Pfft, Val said, “they usually let them go and focused on how we should try a new line of work.”

“But the police has a whole department for that.”

“Yeah, but not for hustlers and hookers, we got what we deserved,” Val shrugged, “the most we get from police is as lecture about our poor life choices. You’re a cop, you get it, it’s a job hazard.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a cop, doing your job, and people shoot at you sometimes. You don’t deserve to get shot, but you know it is a distinct possibility. It’s the same for us, we know there’s a good chance there will be some violence, but there aren’t that many options.”

“Your file,” Peter said a little embarrassed, and he bit Val’s shoulder playfully. “Your file said you went to college, and got arrested for propositioning someone there. What made you not pursue that?” Val threw his head back and laughed. “What?” Peter asked.

“When I was like, 19, this group was on mission and they would come down and bring us gifts while we were working, you know, show us someone cared,” Val said smiling sardonically. “You know, combs, deodorant, all packaged with inspirational messages about forgiveness and love.” 

“That sounds nice,” Peter commented, as Val settled his head on Peter’s chest. Peter continued to stroke Val’s shoulders, arms, and hair.

“Lots of things sound nice,” Val offered. “Anyway, they got a few of us to go look at colleges, and sit for this exam. I killed it, I have a great brain,” Val teased. “I got a scholarship to the local college, and few others did as well. Our saviors had this van, and they would pick us up and take us to classes.”

 

“Too boring?” 

“Oh no, it was very educational. Anyway, I signed up for a few classes, and went to orientation. It was great,” Val sighed. “The first night of class,” Val swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep his voice light and entertaining, Peter suspected for his benefit. “I had to go meet with the dean, no big deal. I was the only one, everyone else went to class, and our driver left with promises to return at the end of our classes.” Val paused for a long time, seemingly lost in the memory. Peter waited, letting the silence fill the space between them. 

“I went into his office, and I recognized him as a client,” Val said his eyes fluttering open, biting his lip. “He had a letter revoking my scholarship. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, but he had a career and a family. He didn’t think it was a good idea for me to be on campus. As a student anyway.” Val finished.

“What does that mean?”

“I asked for a chance, and he gave me the opportunity to come to campus with the other dream team, and blow him or get bent over his desk. Sometimes he just wanted to act out fantasies in his office, spankings for students who were late with tuition, or mouthy,” Val said with a smirk, keeping his voice breezy.

“I hope you kicked his jaw in, and told him to go to hell.”

“No, I charged him double for delivery, and spent the next six months going to college, or at least to the campus. I told him it was extra for my travel expenses, but since the van brought me, there weren’t any, so really, it’s hard to figure out who the real victim in all of this was.”

“No, it’s really not,” Peter said, closing his own eyes, and ashamed and grateful for his own college experience. “So why the arrest?”

“Oh, that old thing,” Val said, Peter wondered if Val realized he was picking at the bed sheets. Val was trying so hard to be nonchalant, but his anxiety was manifesting itself in nervous energy.

“Well, I mean, I’m sure lots of things were gossiped about. That I came to campus once a week, and spent the entire time in his office. I’m sure his staff knew what was happening. But, when I got to campus one night, I went straight to his office, his secretary didn't say anything to me.” Val closed his eyes again and bit his lip, hard. He shook his head and continued, “ he gestured for me to take off my clothes, and I did. And then he started yelling, things like ‘what are you doing here, why are you doing that’ I thought it was a game. But he stormed out of his office, and a police officer rushed in. I was led out in handcuffs for soliciting the dean. When I was led out he was standing there shaking his head in disgust, with his wife. I guess she found out something was going on, and the dean had said he was trying to get me on the straight and narrow, but I wouldn’t go to classes. He said he tried to tutor me, but I would make passes at him and demand money,” Val’s eyes were cast downward, as he studied some spot only he could see. 

 

“There has to be something that can be done. He can’t do that.”

“It’s cute that you think so, but people in power can do lots of things. That’s the trouble with being in the lowest 1%, society is a circle, so we come into contact with the top 1% a lot, and they definitely don’t want us crawling our way to to their social status in life.”

***

“It was an interesting play, a little macabre,” Val commented. 

“It was Shakespeare! How can you call it macabre?” Peter defended, as he grabbed Val’s hand and pulled him closer as they walked along the boardwalk. The sounds of the ocean filled the air, but otherwise it was a quiet night, light up by a full moon.

“Everybody was fucking everybody, then everybody killed everybody,” Val said with a shrug and a smirk, enjoying needling Peter. 

“It’s a tragedy,” Peter continued to explain.

“I’ll say, a real fucking disaster,” Val offered.

“No, I mean the style,” Peter gave Val a half-hearted stern look, “are you fucking with me?”

“I played Othello in a community production, I was fantastic,” Val laughed. Peter put his head down in defeat. 

“So you just went to humor me,” Peter offered.

“You were so excited, when you thought I hadn’t seen the play. And,” Val said slyly, “I have never seen it with you, with your hands, in the dark,” Val trailed off. Peter laughed.

Rain was starting to fall softly. “My hair,” Val said in mock horror, pulling Peter under one of the overhangs. The boardwalk was mostly deserted, all the shops closed down, but there were little alcoves with covering. The rain kicked up and Peter and Val went further under, the steel awning. 

“It should let up soon,” Peter said, looking at the sky.

“How shall we pass the time?” Val said, arms wrapped around Peter’s neck pulling Peter close, as Peter’s arms automatically went around Val’s waist. Tongue met tongue, deep, needy kisses, followed by moans. 

“I have an idea,” Peter said, “how about,”

“I have a better idea,” came a gruff, menacingly voice from behind Peter, “how about both of you hand over your wallets. Slowly.” Peter and Val froze at the same time. Their hands lowered, and Peter turned. A junkie type stood, knife outstretched, face partially obscured by a beanie, eyes dilated. He was slightly taller than Peter, and was shaking a bit. 

“We don’t want any trouble,” Peter said. Val reached for his wallet, and stepped forward handing it over, as Peter went for his wallet, his badge became visible. 

“Are you a cop?” The guy shouted, eyes wide with anger. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Peter said, “we’re cooperating.”

“You’re going for a gun,” the guy accused in a panicky tone. He rushed forward, and Val wedged himself between Peter and the assailant. The guy shoved Valentine who went backwards into Peter, both men hit the wall of the building they’d previously been making out against. Val grunted and Peter tried to catch up and absorb some of the impact. Peter did go for his gun then, and stepped out and aimed it at the retreating assailant. 

“Stop, freeze,” Peter yelled, “Val, call the police,” 

“Peter,” Val said.

“911,” Peter repeated, lowering his gun, and about to pursue the assailant.

“Peter,” Val whispered, but something in his voice made Peter turn sharply. Val was leaning against the building, bent over, he was holding up a hand covered in blood. Peter’s eyes went wide, as he holstered his gun and ran back, catching Val as he started to slump towards the pavement. 

“Let me see,” Peter said, lowering Val gently, and cradling his head. Peter pulled back the shirt, and Val had a gushing wound in his upper abdomen. Val took in a sharp painful breath. 

“Shit,” Val breathed out, “it really fucking hurts,” and his eyes started to roll. 

“Val, Val,” Peter said as Val groaned but didn’t respond. Peter checked Val’s pulse, which was rapid. His skin was pale and starting to take on a clammy look.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Val offered, panting.

“You’re okay, just stay with me.” Peter used his cell “A cop was injured,” he said to the 911 operator, and provided their location. “Get Lt. Backstrom, tell him one of his team was injured, and get me an ambulance,” Peter instructed, while ripping Val’s shirt and looking at the wound. The operator started to provide basic first aid advice, but Peter was a forensic analyst and had extensive knowledge in human anatomy, he didn’t need rookie advice. 

“Val, listen to me,” Peter said, and Val’s eyes fluttered open.

“I could listen to you all day,” Val flirted, and then groaned. 

“Great, it’s a date, but right now, this is going to hurt, I need to stop the bleeding,” Peter explained. Val yelped in pain as Peter applied pressure to the wound. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Val panted painfully.

Peter used strips of Val’s shirt to make layered bandages, and apply pressure. Val’s eyes lulled to the side, and he slipped from consciousness “Val,” Peter snapped, grabbing his face. “Val, Val, Valentine,” Peter repeated, his hand leaving bloody streaks on Val’s cheek, and neck. Peter used his free hand to shake Val, “I need you to stay with me.” Peter kissed Val, but there was no response. Peter kept checking vitals, and listened to Val’s chest. He was breathing, shallow and ragged. Peter’s phone buzzed, Backstrom had sent out a message asking who on his team was hurt. Moto, Gravely, Almond, Paquet all checked in. Backstrom wrote back “I fucking knew it would be Niedermayer.” Peter was going to answer, but then there were officers and ambulances rushing the scene. Peter assisted with prepping Val for transport, lifting him onto the gurney. 

“We need a statement, Sergeant,” one of the patrolmen said as Peter helped carry the gurney to the ambulance.

“Fuck off, that’s my statement, I’m riding with him,” Peter snapped, climbing into the back of the ambulance. The officer started to protest, but Peter held up his badge, “I outrank you.”

The door to the ambulance slammed shut, and Peter saw there was more blood then he imagined. Val’s shirt was soaked, and the EMT was working hard to manage blood flow and keep vitals going. Peter held Val’s hand and tried to remain unobtrusive as the EMT continued to work on Val. 

As the ambulance pulled in, Peter scrambled out of the back, and helped the EMTs lower Val. They went through the main emergency doors, and the EMT was intercepted by a doctor, who began examining Val and demanding information. Peter leaned over and kissed Val’s head. Val’s head lulled to the side, and he reached up a hand. 

“Hi Bella,” he purred and then winced. “Wait for me,” Val’s eyes rolled again.

“I will,” Peter said, with more kisses, still holding Val’s hands. 

“This way,” the doctor barked. Peter was still holding Val’s hand,”you need to stay here,” the doctor ordered him, and Val’s fingers slowly unraveled from Peter’s hands as they wheeled him away. Peter felt tears stinging his eyes, adrenaline and anger made him shake. He leaned against the wall, and his eyes focused in front of him. In the ambulance bay stood Backstrom, Gravely, Paquet, Almond, and Moto. Each looked wide eyed and stunned. 

“Are you fucking my brother?” Backstrom snapped closing the distance. Peter laughed a little hysterically. Backstrom was in front of him. “Are you hurt?” Peter couldn’t think of how to answer, Val’s vitals were terrible and Peter felt like his soul was being ripped in half, but Backstrom probably didn’t mean any of that. “Niedermayer!” Backstrom yelled. Peter blinked and looked at him. Backstrom grabbed Peter’s wrist and held his blood covered hand up to Peter’s face. “Are you hurt, or is this Val’s blood?” he asked, his voice softer.

“Val’s,” Peter breathed out. He cried then, he knew Backstrom would crucify him, but his legs wouldn’t hold him anymore, there was so much blood, too much blood. Peter didn’t remember sliding down the wall. The team was around him, Almond kneeling with a hand on Peter’s shoulder, Paquet next to him on the floor, offering her shoulder to cry on, Gravely also kneeling nearby seemingly stuck for how to help, and Backstrom was there staring down, a rare unguarded expression of concern. Peter had flashes, but no actual memory of how he got from the ER hallway to the men’s room. He was standing at the sink, washing blood, Valentine’s blood off his hands. Backstrom, Almond and Moto were with him. He saw himself in the mirror, he looked pale, had it only been an hour, maybe two? The team eyed him with a mix of concern and query. 

“Val doesn’t date,” Backstrom said gruffly. 

“I’m comfortable with our dynamic,” Peter breathed out. 

“How long?” Backstrom demanded.

“A few months,” Peter had no interest in diving into this conversation, but the questions were relatively easy, and his brain wasn’t up to tougher stuff. 

“He’s had enough crap in his life, he doesn’t need,” Backstrom started.

“I think we know the quality of Peter’s character,” Almond interjected.

“And Val's doesn’t matter?” Backstorm snapped.

“Val and I are grown and adults, and this couldn't be less of anyone’s business,” Peter snapped. “Instead of taking bets on if we go the distance, let’s focus on keeping him alive.” Peter’s voice broke at that, and he splashed more cold water on his face. Val was digging in deep, and Peter had been warned by Backstrom, and more importantly by Valentine himself, not to get to close. It was easy, in the quiet moments not to think about Val’s reticence for relationships. Val had stepped so readily between him and the junkie. Could he really be indifferent to Peter? To risk his life?


	2. Hospitals, Hipsters, and Reputations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every action creates a ripple effect, and Peter has to manage the sudden revelation of his relationship with Valentine to the team, and the complications it creates for him, and his career.

“Who is here for Gregory Valentine?” a doctor in scrubs said coming into the waiting area. Backstrom, Niedermayer, and Louise “Lou” Finster, Valentine’s mother, all stood. 

“A fan club, huh?” the doctor asked. “Who am I talking to?”

“I”m his mother,” Lou said, stepping forward, Backstrom and Peter close on her heels.

“He’s recovering, and has a good prognosis,” the doctor started. Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The medical data the doctor rattled off landed in Peter’s subconscious, but he was just focused on the part where Val was okay. A brief image of Val putting himself between him and the assailant flashed behind his closed eyes, Val holding out his blood covered hand.. Twice now Val had stood between him and danger, Trippi and now some junkie. He was the cop, it was his job to serve and protect. 

“Yes, I’ll see him first,” Lou said, and Peter wanted to interject, but what right did he have. He was only the… Peter was stuck, what was he? A friend? A lover? A fling?

Lou and Backstorm spent a lot of time with Valentine, Peter suspected Backstrom spent an exceptionally large amount of time back there just to antagonize Peter. Peter paced, he tried to meditate, but nothing was helping. The team kept watching him, but they didn’t say anything. Peter was glad, he didn’t want to talk, or more likely explain things he couldn’t explain to the team. Occasionally, one of them might put a hand on his shoulder and just squeeze, letting him know they were there, but they didn’t push. 

Lou came out. “He looks good,” she told the team. “His doctor said he needs to rest, Backstrom is getting some details on the,” Lou’s voice trailed off. “But he said all of you could go home. He might be up to visitor’s tomorrow.” Everyone’s head swiveled to Peter. The team started gathering up their coats and items, stopping to give Louise hugs, and say goodbye. Peter tried to slink into the background, and wait for Backstrom to come out. He’d probably spend the night in there just to be a jerk. 

Louise put a hand on Peter’s arm. “Hi,” Peter said, “can I help you Ms. Finster?” He offered. 

“Lou,” She said, she seemed shy and reserved. “I don’t think Gregory will be up to anymore visitors.”

“Backstrom will need a ride,” Peter said. 

“Of course,” Lou shrugged, “I can see you are really worried about him, are you close?” 

Peter wanted to yell yes, but were they close? Physically, sure. Emotionally, maybe. Peter wasn’t sure and the answer to that question was suddenly eating away at him. Valentine didn’t do boyfriends, didn’t do long term, he’d been clear and emphatic about that. Peter thought he would mind more than he did, but the dynamic was surprisingly easy, or had been. “Valentine,” Peter said when he could trust his voice again, “is an invaluable asset to our team.” Lou nodded.

“Yes,’ Lou agreed. “Thank you for looking out for him,” she said. Lou gathered her things and left. 

Peter sat in the waiting area, envisioning Backstrom reading poetry and doing puzzles just to soak up as much time as possible. Backstrom did eventually wander out. 

“He asked for Moto,” Backstrom announced. 

“He didn’t,” Peter said shaking his head. 

“You can go back,” Backstrom relented. “But he’s injured so keep the gay hi-jinx to a minimum.”

Peter sighed and went down the hallway. Valentine was semi propped up in bed, groggy looking. “Bella,” Valentine sighed with a smile. Peter went to the bed and sat on the side, he reached forward to stroke Valentine’s cheek. Peter kissed him, hands gentle on his face, not certain where there may be injury. “I’m on morphine, no need to be gentle, get in here,” Val slurred, halfheartedly. Peter grabbed Valentine’s wandering hands. 

“Come on it’ll be amazing,” Val offered. 

“It’s always amazing,” Peter whispered, Val slid over in the bed and patted the spot next to him.

“Come on, I’m cold, keep me warm,” he purred. Peter slid into the spot next to Valentine, careful of the IV, and wires. 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, kissing Val’s jawline.

“I am now,” Val sighed, his eyes fluttered, “sleepy,” he murmured. Peter watched Val drift into a morphine induced nap. 

Peter listened to the beep of the machines, generally annoying, but in this instance, all those annoying repetitive sounds meant Valentine was okay. Peter watched Val sleep for several long minutes. He kissed Val one last time, and then whispered to his still sleeping partner, “I think I’m falling in love with you.” There was no response, and Peter hadn’t expected one. He just wanted to say it, just to try it out on his tongue. Perhaps he hoped that some subconscious level of Valentine would hear it and embrace the idea. Peter’s own exhaustion coupled with the soothing feel of Val in his arms caused him to drift off as well.

***

“What is going on?” Lou whispered. Peter sat up as Lou approached with flowers. 

“I was just,” Peter said, groggily, sliding off the bed to stand next to it. 

“What does it look like?” Val shot back, a little of the morphine haze having left him. They must have lowered the dose. 

“I thought you worked together,” Lou accused, blinking hard, looking between Val and Peter. 

“We do lots of things together,” Val sighed, with crossed arms and pursed lips.

“Gregory, you know that God loves homosexuals, but abhors sodomy.” 

“That’s too bad, because Peter and I are in love,” and Peter’s heart did a strange flip flop at that phrase, “with sodomy,” Val finished. Peter tried not to feel disappointed at the end of Val’s proclamation. 

“Gregory!” Lou admonished. “Can you give us a minute?” Lou asked, looking at Peter.

“He’s staying,” Val objected.

“I don’t mind,” Peter said.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“I don’t have boyfriends,” Val rolled his eyes. Peter tried to produce a blank face, but he’d never been great at hiding his emotions. That last comment stung, he’d heard it dozens of times from Valentine, but the feelings Peter had been trying to ignore were bubbling to the surface. He was definitely starting to feel like more than just friends with benefits. 

“Let me get you a real coffee,” Peter offered, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Fine,” Val said, “but he reached up and grabbed Peter and pulled him into a showy, tongue filled kiss. Peter tried to gently reign in the kiss, but Val was obviously intent on making Lou uncomfortable. Lou for her part looked away. 

“Can I get you anything?” Peter softly asked. Lou shook her head. 

Lou was waiting outside Val’s room when Peter returned. 

“I love Gregory,” Lou said quickly. “And I appreciate everyone who looks out for him.” 

Peter nodded, “but,”.

“No buts, I just wanted you to know.” She put her hand on Peter’s arm. “Keep him safe,” she gave Peter a small peck on the cheek and then made her way hastily from the emergency department.

Peter came in with the coffee. Val was relaxed back against the pillows. Peter came to his side, and dropped a kiss on his mouth before handing over the coffee.

“Good chat?” Peter asked, settling onto the bedside again. 

“I’m going to kill Backstorm for reuniting me and my mother,” Val grumbled, one hand on the coffee, one hand exploring Peter’s body. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Peter admonished, grabbing Val’s wandering hand and kissing the back of it. 

“You know what really helps me relax,” Val purred. 

“Yes I do, and as soon as the doctor clears you, I’m at your service,” Peter offered. 

“I have always been particularly susceptible to sexual healing,” Val flirted, watching Peter from under long lashes.

“Which is not on the hospital’s list of approved treatments,” came a voice from the doorway. 

“Dr. Livingston I presume,” Val smirked, leaning back on the pillows.

“Yes,” Dr. Livingston returned, “how are you Valentine?” The doctor closed the distance and pulled Valentine’s chart.

“How great is his name?” Val asked looking at Peter. “I’m good, ready to be cleared for physical activity.” 

“Slow down,” Dr. Livingston chided, “and you are?”

“I’m Peter Niedermayer,” and Peter suddenly didn’t know what to say. I’m his boyfriend, lover, sex-friend, colleague, “I am with the Special Crimes Unit of the Portland Police Bureau,” Peter finished awkwardly, and then extended his hand to the doctor. 

“Val must be in very protective custody if you are required to sleep by his side,” Dr. Livingston remarked ignoring Peter’s hand. 

“I,” Peter started to answer. 

“Let’s see,” Dr. Livingston said, brushing Peter aside and standing by the bed. “Is he staying?” Dr. Livingston asked nodding towards Peter.

“Yes,” Val confirmed. 

“You don’t normally have such a fan club when you visit us,” Dr. Livingston observed, pulling back the hospital gown, and examining the wound. 

“I’ve become quite popular in my old age,” Val offered, “ever since I played Othello,” he finished with a wink at Peter. 

“This one is cute,” Dr. Livingston said jerking a thumb towards Peter. Peter blushed, and was grateful neither man was actually looking at him. He tried to get closer so he could see the wound himself. Dr. Livingston was probably a great doctor, but Peter would feel better if he knew with his own eyes the extent of the injury.

“I know, right,” Val said, smiling at Peter. 

“Okay, I know the drill. I would keep you for a few more days, but you’re going to balk,” Dr. Livingston said, “so bottom line, convince me how you will care for this wound if I let you leave.”

“He can stay with me, I have extensive medical training,” Peter offered. Both men turned to look at him. 

"Any legitimate training or is it all of the sexual healing variety?" Dr. Livingston quipped.

"I, I'm," Peter stuttered, as Val barely contained giggles behind his hand.

“I’d like to talk to my patient alone for a minute,” Dr. Livingston requested. 

“Of course,” Peter said, surprised by the sudden iciness in the air. He went out to the nurses station. He watched through the glass as the Doctor and Val interacted. Peter felt a small bristle of jealousy as they laughed and talked. Peter wondered if Livingston was a former client. An older lady, well into her seventies, dressed in a volunteer uniform went into the room. 

“Oh look who is here!” Peter heard her exclaim, as she entered Val’s room. Peter saw her go over and give a gentle hug to Valentine. She gave him some of the water and snacks off her tray. The doctor was looking tenderly at Val, one hand on Val's shoulder. He gave one final squeeze, and then the doctor looked up to meet Peter’s eyes. There was something firm, and threatening in the doctor’s look. Jealousy? Peter shook it off. Dr. Livingston exited the room, and his look remained unfriendly, as he went about his rounds. 

“Peter this is Stella,” Val introduced, when Peter wandered back into the room.

“Hi,” she greeted and shook Peter’s hand.

“Are you the young man taking care of my Valentine,” she asked. 

“I’m her favorite, “Val beamed, smiling. 

“Of course you are,” she said patting his hand. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left.

“Good news, the doctor is willing to release me into your custody,” Val said, “my body is all yours,” Val teased, laying back against the pillows. 

“I don’t think he meant you think he meant, when he released your 'body' to me,” Peter laughed, leaning over to give Val a proper kiss. 

***

Peter sat across from Dr. Livingston as he provided some discharge information. He was cold and irritated. 

“Have I offended you Dr. Livingston?” Peter asked. 

Dr. Livingston leveled a glare at Peter. “Look, I know what Valentine does for a living. If he’s found someone who will “keep” him well and take care of him, great.” Peter got the doctor’s full meaning, it was apparent that the good doctor was under the impression that Peter was Val’s client. 

“I’m a police officer,” Peter interjected.

“I work in the ER, lots of people are lots of things.”

“I’m not paying Valentine.”

“It’s none of my business,” the doctor cut him off, “just know that Val is well liked here.” The doctor handed Peter the discharge papers, and left the room.

“What the hell was that?” Peter muttered. Stella put her hand on his shoulder, and he jumped slightly.

“He didn’t mean anything,” Stella said, “he’s right though we like Val. He’s a good kid.”

“I like Val too, what exactly am I being accused of?”

“Nothing,”Stella said, sitting beside him. “You seem like a nice boy too.”

“Thank you,” Peter breathed out, hopeful to maybe get some more information from Stella. “Val has been here a lot.” he said as a statement more than a question.

“I probably shouldn’t say.” Stella said.

“Is Dr. Livingston dangerous,” Peter whispered.

“Oh no,” Stella said gasping. She looked around and leaned in to Peter.

“Dr. Livingston is a great man. He cares about his patients and he’s been doing the ER for over thirty years.”

“Wow,” Peter said.

“Dr. Livingston’s son is like Valentine,” Stella made a floating hand gesture often used to denote homosexuality. “Collin. He ran away. Dr. Livingston asked Val about the streets during one of his visits and he told Valentine about his son missing. Val brought Collin to the ER to see Dr Livingston. Convinced Collin living on the street wasn’t for him, allowed Dr. Livingston to show Val’s medical records to Collin. Scared him. Now Collin’s in medical school, he’s engaged to a nice young man as well.”

“So Dr. Livingston is concerned that I don’t have good intentions.”

“Val doesn’t generally get a lot of nice visitors when he stays with us” 

“Does he get other kinds of visitors?”

“I can’t really say,” Stella said looking nervously around. 

“Thank you for sharing,” Peter said, kissing her hand. She blushed, and put a hand to her cheek. 

“You’re both big flirts,” Stella said with a laugh.

***

“Did my forensic analyst on my Special Crimes Unit, an elite team of investigators, fail to notice the approach of a potential assailant because he was getting a blow job from a prostitute in a dark alley?” Chief Cervantes asked. 

“Valentine isn’t a prostitute and I wasn’t getting a blow job,” Peter interjected, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Have you seen his fucking criminal history?” the Chief demanded, slamming her hand on her desk.

“He hasn’t been arrested for prostitution in years.”

“Do you really believe anyone gives a shit about that, when the headline contains the phrases “cop”, “blow job”, and “prostitute”? Do you think anyone gives a shit about Gregory Valentine’s current career? Which is still thief, right? Explain to me how that is better in the Court of Public Opinion?” 

“I was off duty and my sex life is my own,” Peter ground out, eyes defiant.

“You couldn’t be more wrong Sergeant, officers are on trial and under scrutiny. You can’t sleep with known criminals and expect to have any credibility on a witness stand. Tell me you nor your team,” and she looked pointedly at Backstorm now, “have ever turned a blind eye to Gregory Valentine’s illegal activities?” Both Backstrom and Niedermayer fell silent. 

“I have let you have a long leash with your team, and that has clearly been a mistake,” Chief said looking at Backstrom. “Valentine living with you was difficult, but him blowing members of your team,”

“We were kissing, it was not a blow job,” Peter defended again.

“Then it was hardly worth it,” the Chief snapped. “I don’t really care what happened, I care that your cases are now subject to review and question. You should care too.”

“Do you want my badge?” Peter snapped.

“No, I want you to fix this. Firing you won’t resolve your credibility. Are you okay with your criminals going free. You think Samantha Orland won’t set a family on fire if she’s back on the streets? Leon Mundy can get away with statutory rape and murder, you’re fine with him walking free?,” Chief Cervantes turned to look at Backstrom, “Wesley Lewis.” At the mention of Lacey Siddon’s predator, both men squirmed uncomfortably. “I see we are on the same page now. If you think I give a shit about who Niedermayer is fucking, you’re wrong, I give a shit about how that judgement has impacted the work we do here.” Both men were silent for a long time. 

“How do we fix it?” Peter asked. 

“I don’t know, but since you are all on desk duty until it is resolved, I trust you can figure out what to do.” They both stood. “Peter, you’re taking a week of leave.”

“But I thought you wanted me to,” Peter started, but the Chief waved him off.

“I don’t want the press sitting on our doorsteps following you around and distracting from police work. Take the week off, you can touch base with the team remotely. Don’t come to the building.”

***

Peter and Backstorm made their way out to the team. They all had the same “is this it?” expression. Backstrom grabbed some whiskey, and dumped it into his coffee cup. “We are all on desk duty. Except Niedermayer who gets a week off to recover from his blowjob,” Backstrom said gruffly. 

“It wasn’t,” Peter started and then just rubbed his head where a headache was forming. He gathered some things from his desk, and prepared to leave. 

“You and Valentine,” Paquet started. Peter looked over at the team. They all looked curious, but only Paquet looked a little hurt. Peter and she had a brief liaison, it didn’t work out, but they parted as friends. 

“It just happened,” Peter said to the team, he didn’t know how to explain it. Backstrom’s phone buzzed. 

“You’re boyfriend’s awake,” Backstrom said.

***  
Peter could see Val through the glass, but Almond, Gravely and Backstrom were interviewing him. Backstrom banned Peter from the investigation because he was on vacation. He knew it was more about Backstrom needling him then it was about Peter’s status. Val looked okay, pale, tired, but he was okay. Peter felt the vice that had been gripping his heart ease. Moto stood outside the door. Backstrom had ordered Moto to keep an eye on Peter and make sure he didn’t try to enter the room. It was a joke of course, but Backstrom was irritated and taking shots every chance he got, and Moto was going to follow orders.

“You know Valentine,” Moto started.

“I don’t want to talk about Valentine,” Peter said. He didn’t even know how he felt about Valentine, and the only person he wanted to talk to was Valentine. He knew the team meant well. Everyone had been concerned about Valentine and Backstrom’s association and how it would impact the team. Not it was Peter’s liaison with Valentine that was jeopardizing the team.


	3. I Trust You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val has to recover somewhere, and Peter has to manage emerging feelings. Can they spend this much time around each other and not risk what they have.

Backstrom protested Valentine’s discharge into Peter’s care, but Niedermayer did make a better caregiver given his medical training, and his week off. Backstrom relented because Valentine was determined to go to Peter’s and Backstrom had no say. He told them both that he was allowing it because he hated Niedermayer and didn’t want Peter hanging around the barge undressing Valentine with his eyes or anything else.

Val was doing good at taking it easy for the most part, and Peter was able to resist all of Val’s many creative and relentless attempts to get him into sexual situations-at least for the first 24 hours. Peter was sad that his week off was coming to an end. He'd initially resented it, but getting a full week to care for Valentine had taking all of the sting out of his suspension. Peter stood in the doorway of his living room. Val had a featherdown blanket over him, and Peter knew he was only wearing boxers underneath. Valentine insisted after the first 24 hours that all clothing was too restrictive on his injury. His flirtatious eyes, and the seductive way he said it, hinted at a bigger motive of being half dressed to further offer temptation to Peter’s quickly dwindling resolve.

“You have such a great view,” Val commented, watching Peter in the reflective glass.

“It is remarkable, seeing the sunset.” Peter acknowledged watching the last of the sun’s rays fade over the horizon.

“Was I talking about the sunset?” Val said smiling wide, rolling so he was facing Peter, head resting on the back of the couch. “No, no I wasn’t.” Val held out a hand and Peter joined him on the couch, delivering one of the mugs of tea he had prepared. He dropped down next to Valentine who immediately shifted so he could rest his back against Peter, his head on Peter’s shoulder, looking up at him with the near constant wanton look. Peter kissed his forehead, and sipped his own tea.

“Umm” Valentine said, “I could get used to this,” Val purred as Peter’s arms came around him, and Peter rested his chin on top of Val’s head.

“Could you?” Peter ventured, and he meant to make a joke of it, but there was vulnerable trepidation in his voice. Val caught the shift, and stilled, the sexy smirk falling from his face, as he suddenly stared at his mug. Peter sighed, and mentally chided himself. Val sat up slowly retreating to his half of the couch as Peter tried to think of ways to salvage the comment. He could see Val retreating inside himself as well. Val smiled and Peter could tell he was desperately uncomfortable. Peter meant to say it was a joke, but instead it came out, “I guess I mean, what are we?”

“I mean, I don’t know what we are,” Valentine said, one finger nervously circling the rim of his tea. Val was clearly trying to appear nonchalant. Peter set his own mug aside, and moved closer to Valentine, stroking his leg. Val took a few sips and set his own tea aside. The blanket had fallen down to his lap, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What do you think a relationship is?” Peter asked. Val’s hand involuntarily went to his chest, his finger subconsciously stroking a cigarette burn. Peter grabbed his hand, “not that.” Peter said shaking his head. He put his hand on Val’s face and turned him to face Peter, “that wasn’t love,” Peter pulled Val in close and kissed him. Val hungrily kissed back, his hands going to Peter’s chest, fingering buttons.

Peter pulled back. “You’re not trying to change the subject with sex are you?”

“I don’t do relationships, I like you, I like this, why do we need to,” Val shrugged, and his eyes drifted to a point past Peter’s head.

“Exactly. I like you, you like me. That happens in relationships. We go out together, we practically live together, we share money.”

“We don’t share money.”

“You have my credit card.”

“I stole your credit card,” Val said with an eye roll,, “that’s a crime not a relationship.”

“I know you stole it and I let you keep using it,” Peter laughed. “Besides, you only use it for cab fare back to my place or to buy us take out food.”

“I don’t know if I know how to be monogamous,” Val sighed, he was looking past Peter’s shoulder, still, but Peter could see Val’s eyes drifting to the side using peripheral vision to monitor Peter’s reactions.

“Have you slept with anyone else since we’ve been sleeping together?” Peter asked, a question he had deliberately not broached. He tried hard to make it appear that the answer did not matter.

“No,” Val said softly. Val stood then, crossing his arms and standing with his back to Peter as he stared out the window.

“Well, that’s pretty much monogamy. Rule number one is don’t have sex with other people,” Peter offered, standing as well, and then shoving his hands in his pocket. The conversation was making him feel too vulnerable. Val was perhaps not the sort to have a boyfriend, and Peter felt selfish for wanting it. Val had been very clear about his terms even before Peter had shown an interest. Peter watched Val as he fidgeted, clearly thinking things over.

Val swallowed hard, and there was a sheen to his eyes. His hands were crossed over his own chest. Peter recognized the unconscious protective pose. “People who say they care about each other usually just hurt each other,” he whispered, and there was a tremor in his voice. Peter put his arms around Val from behind, holding him, hugging him, wishing he could smother out whatever memories were haunting Val right now. Peter for a moment had a flash of Trippi, pressing Valentine against a wall and demanding that Valentine say he loved him after violently raping him, and then after forcing Valentine to say it, Trippi had dropped Valentine to the ground with a knee to the stomach and spat on him. Peter felt remorseful then, he didn’t want to force Valentine to say anything, didn’t want to guilt him or coerce him.

“I don’t,” Peter said catching Val’s eyes in the reflection, “I don’t hurt people I care about.” Peter felt Val again reach subconsciously for his chest, where the cigarette scars were. Peter wished Val’s attacker wasn’t dead, or that Trippi wasn’t. Peter wanted to vent some of the rage he felt on someone.

“I don’t know if I can, just,” Val didn’t finish, he turned in Peter’s arms, and buried his face in the spot between Peter’s neck and shoulder, finally wrapping his own arms around Peter. Peter kissed his hair, and held tight, willing the love he felt to absorb through Val’s skin.

“I love you,” Peter said, and was surprised at the fragile sound of his own voice. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think I would, and I know you told me not to, but I love you.” Val squeezed tighter, and it was almost painful. Peter could feel the fear rippling off Valentine. “Okay,” Peter said swallowing hard. “I’m just going to love you, because I can’t help it. You can do what you want with that. You can think about it, or break up with me,” Peter meant to sound more casual, but his voice faltered. “I don’t know how not to love you, Valentine.” Val remained silent, but Peter could feel small tremors that Val was clearly trying to reign in. Long minutes passed, time slipping by slowly, and the dread slowly started to lift from Peter. He loved Valentine, he would just do that, and whatever happened as a result was worth it.

Peter considered for a moment all that Val was, and had done. Val may not say he loved Peter, but Peter felt loved. Maybe the verbalization didn’t matter. Was he really so needy that he would discount all the ways Val did love and embrace him, just to hear words that had been forced out of, and torn from Valentine before. Peter felt resolve then, he wouldn’t whimper and sulk because Val wasn’t in the same place. Val cherished Peter and showed him in a million little and big ways, the words, words that had always been used against Val didn’t mean nearly as much as Peter first envisioned. This, what they had was important, meaningful and Peter had never felt so intensely cared for nor the need to care for another.

Val, pulled back, but he shoved Peter against the wall and kissed him. It wasn’t painful, but it was aggressive, needy, and Val’s hands were everywhere. All the internal chaos was manifesting itself in sexual frenzy, and Val pulled at Peter’s shirt removing the barrier between Val and flesh. Peter was heady and distracted by the chaotic energy pouring off Val, but he let him lead, and there was undeniable pleasure in the touches. Val pulled Peter along until they hit the bed, and then Val pulled Peter down on top of him, still kissing, and stroking, and teasing. Val wouldn’t look at him though, focused intently on flesh and skin. Peter kissed back, his own hands eliciting pleasure along Val’s exposed flesh.

Val reached for the condoms and the lube and attempted to go on his knees, but Peter pushed him onto his back, and kissed him. Val kept his eyes closed, and Peter wrapped and lubed quickly, but he stayed facing Valentine. Peter thrust a few times, slowly, kissing Val’s mouth. Val eventually opened his eyes, and looked at Peter. Some of the intensity and chaos was abating, and Val swallowed hard. The eyes were troubled, shy and intensely courageous as well.

“I’m scared,” Val said. And Peter froze.

“I’ll stop,” Peter said pushing up and preparing to withdraw. But Val grabbed him.

“No, no,” Val said, shaking his head “I’m scared because I might,” Val breathed deeply, and shut his eyes tightly. “I might like you a lot,” he finished barely above a whisper. Peter smiled wide, and kissed Valentine with all the love he could. Then he thrust, deeply, faster, finding the rhythm Val liked until they both came. Both men collapsed on their sides, hands stroking flesh, eyes devouring each other.

“I,” Val said licking his lips.

“I trust you,” Peter said firmly, “and I love you.” Val nodded and winced. “I don’t need you to say it. I’m sorry I brought it up. Call this whatever you want,” Peter soothed his hands stroking Val. Valentine stared intently at Peter, and Peter could feel the apprehension. “Forgive me?” Peter asked.

Val grimaced, “for what?”

“I got caught up in familiar, in pattern, thinking that this had to be a certain way to be right. Or that,” Peter smiled shaking his own head. “Let’s just leave it as I love you and I trust you. That’s it, period. I don’t need you to say or do anything, I just need you to know that I do love you.” Val seemed skeptical, mistrust written into the lines on his face. Peter laughed, and leaned in to kiss him. “Remember, trust?” he offered, feeling strangely confident for a guy who just poured his heart out and got mostly stone walled. Peter felt free, not at all threatened by Val’s fears. Peter thought this might actually be the first time he himself had loved anyone, he was vulnerable and had handed his heart to Valentine.

"Usually, when someone says they love someone else, and that person," Val breathed out, "doesn't say something back, it ruins everything." Val was looking all over the room, but Peter noticed he was checking his peripheral constantly to see Peter's reaction.

Of course Peter wanted Val to feel the same way, but he was more concerned with Val’s comfort and speed. Perhaps, this was the first time Peter had actually loved someone enough to take the risk with no assurance. To look beyond what was easy and to understand that Val had his own reasons. But also that Val was an amazing and affectionate partner. They weren’t the same though, they didn’t grow up the same, they didn’t give love to others and had not been loved by others the same. Perhaps, given that Val's definition of love likely included people abusing and mistreating him, perhaps Peter should rethink wanting Val to associate Peter with the concept of love as Val might understand it. Was mere vocabulary and differing opinions on the meaning of a word, worth heartache? Peter smiled even deeper remembering the bath Val had prepared for him so long ago, unobtrusive, accommodating to Peter’s needs in the moment. Valentine was always ready to throw down for sex, even after being stabbed Val’s libido hadn’t abated, but when Peter needed space, Val turned it off. Maybe Peter was the one who didn’t really know what love was. Val woke him up in the morning with kisses, noted and brought all of Peter’s favorite foods, massaged him after long days at the office, equally enjoyed experiences Peter shared with him, and shared his own experiences with Peter.

If Valentine was leaving, then he was leaving, but Peter was going to soak up every minute he got. He wasn’t going to spend it pouting because Val wouldn’t say words he wasn’t ready to say.

“What are you thinking?” Val asked trepidation in his voice.

“That I have so much to learn from you,” Peter answered honestly, closing the gap between them, kissing Valentine, slow, long, deep. This language was easier for Valentine, the physical closeness, the nonverbal interactions. Peter hoped all the love he felt was communicated in their intimacy. Val began to relax, clearly aroused again. Peter let his hand dip down and brush Val’s cock and a soft moan purred forth. Peter pounced, as Val rolled onto his back, taking some of Peter’s weight. Peter was careful to keep his arms baring most of the weight so as not to put pressure on the still healing knife wound. “I love you,” Peter said and Val stiffened a little, but didn’t shut down. Peter kept kissing and murmuring words of love, “Je t’aime, Ti Amo, Se agapo’ and Val finally relaxed, laughing a little giddy as Peter kept professing his desire and affection, in foreign languages. Val laughed, breathing easier, and allowing his hands and mouth to express his desire for Peter.

***

Peter smiled as he looked down at the dresser, sorting through his drawers for nothing really. Valentine had Moto bring him a bag earlier today. The only overnight bag Valentine had brought so far, was just big enough to hold condoms and lubrication. This bag had a few outfits. But Peter’s heart swelled, it was practically a marriage proposal using the Valentine dating scale. Val hung the clothing in the closet, and placed the other items in the top drawer. Peter had cleared out the drawer weeks ago, but Val only kept condoms, and lube in there. Peter could feel the nervous energy in the air. Valentine wasn’t ready to say I love you, but he clearly wanted to make some strides towards Peter, offer some sign of affection. Valentine seemed embarrassed, shy and didn’t quite make eye contact. He was trying clearly to offer a white flag, without encouraging anymore talk about relationships.

“It seems silly to keep having clothes delivered every day when I’m staying here,” Val explained in a not quite natural voice. “While I recover anyway,” he finished, Peter came up behind him and put his arms around Val. He kissed his neck, his cheek and Valentine grabbed his hands and held them closer. “What’s this?” Val asked pulling a plastic card out of the top drawer, even though it was clearly a debit card.

“It’s in case you need it. I know work,” Peter said that with a wink, “is a little slow because of,” and Peter lightly touched the bandage covering Val’s still healing injury.

“You don’t have to,” Val shook his head and attempted to hand it back.

“Then don’t use it,” Peter said, “but keep it. I’ll feel better if I know you have it.” Val turned in his arms.

“I don’t want,” Val said, and it was hard to put into words. “You don’t have to give me money,” Val finished awkwardly. Peter tried to read his expression, something else was happening, but Peter couldn’t put his finger on it. Peter looked into his eyes, but Val averted his gaze.

“I don’t feel like I’m buying you,” Peter blurted out. “I mean, I can’t afford it anyway, you’re amazing.” Val smiled and turned the card over in his hand. “No strings, I just don’t want you to be in a bad situation. You saved us both that night, and I know your line of work doesn’t exactly come with paid time off.” Val put the card back in the top drawer. “The pin is your birthday.”

Val hugged Peter, and there was weariness in it. Val had definitely received money and gifts in exchange for his company before, but Peter had no such thoughts. He was genuinely worried about Val’s livelihood given his down time.

****

“Are you fucking crazy?” Val greeted him at the door, clearly pissed off. Then Val was stomping towards the kitchen. Peter loosened his tie and followed, uncertain of what may have set Val off.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked as he caught up to Val, who was pacing furiously in the kitchen.

“This!” Val said, slamming the debit card down on the counter. Peter eyed the ATM card.

“It didn’t work?” Peter guessed.

“It didn’t work?” Val snapped, “it didn’t work? Of course it fucking worked, there’s fifty thousand dollars in that account, why the fuck would you give me a card to an account with fifty thousand dollars in it?”

“I don’t really know your expenses, and I guess I just really didn’t think about it. It’s a savings account I have, but I don’t need the money for anything. So take as much as you need,” Peter shrugged.

“I am a fucking thief!” Val shouted, “why would you let me have access to that kind of money, what if I take it all?”

 “I trust you.”

“Really, do you? That’s stupid because I took it all!” Val snapped. Peter’s heart leapt, and he smiled wide. Peter had never really been sure if he could tell if Valentine was lying or not, and Val was definitely lying. Peter hadn’t meant to smile, but Val just lied to him, and Peter knew it! He could tell, which meant everything else that Val had told him over the last few months was true. Peter felt relieved that Val had a tell. “You’re happy about that?” Val snapped. Peter tried to reign his face in.

“No, I mean, I don’t care. Do you need more?” Peter shook his head, trying to get back on track with the argument they were apparently having.

“What the fuck do you mean do I need more?” Val’s voice was getting a little shrill, “Yeah, yeah I need more, I need hundred thousand dollars!”

“I’ll get it in there by the end of the week,” Peter offered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Val yelled. “Don’t you want to know how I spent it!?”

“No, I trust you,” Peter said softly. That seemed to take a little wind out of Val’s sails. Tears sprung to Val’s eyes, and his whole body was frantic with nervous energy. Peter tried to hold out his hands and step forward to embrace him but Val side stepped quickly.

“You shouldn’t,” Val said swallowing hard. He started to storm off, but Peter stepped in front of him.

“I don’t know why you’re mad,” Peter acknowledged softly, “I am sorry to be the cause of it. Can we discuss this?”

“We can’t because you’re being ridiculous,” Val snapped and again stalked past Peter to the bedroom. The door slammed loudly and Peter sighed. Peter was torn between following him and giving him space. Peter thought perhaps he should honor Val’s request for a break and instead went about preparing dinner. It was too big Peter thought in hindsight. He should not have just handed over one of his accounts. He should have started slower with a smaller account, but he did trust Valentine. He felt instinctively that it would be offensive to offer Valentine cash, and the card seemed less like payment in Peter’s mind. Or at least he hoped it felt that way in Val’s mind since Val had repeatedly rejected anything that resembled compensation.

Peter began mincing vegetables and pulled out two chicken breasts. He turned on the stereo to a soft jazz station, and poured a glass of wine. It took about half an hour to prepare the meal, and Peter set the table, and added two candles. He set the two plates of food on the table and then prepared to go face Valentine. He was almost to the bedroom door when Val opened it, and jumped as Peter was about to grab the door knob.

“I’m sorry,” Val said leaning against the doorway. Peter put his hands on either side of Val’s face and kissed him, long deep, with all the love he felt. Valentine kissed back, his hands going around Peter’s waist and pulling him in closer. Hungry physical need spread through them and Val kicked the door open wider. He pulled Peter into the room with him, both grabbing, tasting, hands going everywhere. Val stumbled back on the bed, and Peter lost his balance, landing harder than he meant. “Fuck,” Valentine yelped, grabbing his side. Peter scurried off to the side.

“Let me see,” he said, as Val winced.

“It’s fine,” Val groaned unconvincingly. Peter brushed his hands aside and gently removed the tape sealing the bandage. Fresh blood was bubbling to the surface of the incision. “Let me just clean and rewrap this,” Peter said. Val just sighed deeply and laid back on the bed frustrated. Peter went to retrieve the first aid kit, and cleaned and redressed the wound.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, swabbing the wound with antiseptic. Val put one finger under his chin, and lifted Peter’s eyes to his.

“No, I’m really sorry,” Val said remorsefully and kissed him. “I’ve never met anyone like you, and it’s scary. And typically,” Val sighed, looking down, “when I’m scared not great things happen.” He finished biting his lips. “But,” Val started allowing his gaze to drift back to Peter, “so many amazing things have happened with you.” Peter was momentarily paralyzed by the sincerity.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, and I think you’re amazing too.”

Val licked his own lips. “What if it doesn’t work out, what if I leave?” Val asked softly, watching Peter from under his lashes.

“I’ll be devastated,” Peter confessed. “I’m not going to rush towards the ending though. All of this, being with you is worth any pain later.” Val shuttered at that and closed his eyes. He put his hand on Peter’s cheek and kissed him, slow, exploring. They disappeared into the bed, and Peter was left to clear the romantic dinner in the morning.


End file.
